


Disappeared

by MusicalFangirl00193



Series: Kinktober 2019 [31]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Could only think of one in LA, I needed a cop, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Slight crossover with 9-1-1, enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:47:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalFangirl00193/pseuds/MusicalFangirl00193
Summary: Richie comes home to find Eddie missing





	Disappeared

Richie’s worst nightmare was coming true. Eddie was missing and he had no idea what he could do.

"Richie," Bev's hands on his face pulled him back to reality. "Freaking out isn't going to help anything. You with me?"

"Yeah," Richie took a deep breath and accepted the glass of water Ben handed him. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Good," Bill appeared in the doorway. "Police ar-are here."

"Thanks, Big Bill," Richie said, going out to where two officers were waiting.

"Mr. Tozier," the first officer reached out. "Sergeant Grant. Your friend here told me you believe your husband has been kidnapped?"

"Not believe," Richie said firmly. "Eddie always lets me know when he won't be home for dinner, and," Richie paused, gathering strength from the hand Mike put on his shoulder. "The bedroom." He led the way through the house, to the bedroom he and Eddie shared.

The room was a mess, more so than it had ever been even when Richie lived by himself and more than Eddie would ever let it get in a million years.

"Our wedding picture's missing too," Richie said, staring at the bloody corner of the desk that broke his heart. "Nothing else has been touched, before you ask."

Sgt Grant looked around the room. "Alright. We've got a case here. Does your husband have any enemies, Mr. Tozier?"

"He's a risk assessor, for insurance and shit," Richie said. "Maybe someone got pissed at him for that. I don't…"

"Actually," Stan put in from where he'd been standing with the other Losers. "He's gotten some really weird messages lately. Phone calls, emails, a letter last week. He didn't want to worry you, with the tour coming up. He didn't think anything would come of it."

“When did he start getting these messages?” Sgt. Grant asked Stan.

“Right after the wedding,” Stan said. “When Richie started working him into his material. Mentioned that a lot, actually, in the emails.”

Sgt. Grant nodded. “And you knew nothing of this, Mr. Tozier?”

“I knew he was hiding something, I just kinda assumed he’d been getting hassled by Myra, his ex-wife. She’s still out in New York, nasty divorce.”

“This Myra, she a violent type?”

“Not physically. She’s just like his mom, emotionally manipulative and shit.”

Sgt. Grant nodded. “You have somewhere you can stay for the night? Probably best you don’t stay here alone.”

“We can go back to our place,” Bev said. “We’re right next door.”

“All six of you?”

“Richie doesn’t need to be alone,” Mike shrugged, “Neither do we.”

“We m-may be the L-Losers,” Bill said. “But we aren’t losing one of our own.”

“Alright.” Sgt. Grant handed Richie her card. “Call me if you remember anything important, or if anyone contacts you.”

“I will,” Richie said with a nod. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

“Of course,” the woman’s face softened, “We’ll find him, don’t you worry.”

Richie gave a bitter laugh. “I’ve almost lost him so many times, maybe I wasn’t supposed to have him at all.”

* * *

Richie hadn’t slept since he’d gotten home to find Eddie missing. After the first few days, he’d been allowed to go back into the house after the crime scene techs and was allowed to clean the bedroom.

It wasn’t as clean as Eddie would have gotten it, but he did his best, damn it.

Three weeks after Eddie had gone missing, Richie got a call from the police station that had him shoved in the back of Ben’s gigantic SUV between Stan and Mike so he wouldn’t be arrested on his way to the station.

“Hello!” the receptionist cheery greeting grated on Richie’s nerves. “How can I help you?”

“These are mine, Sara,” Sgt. Grant said, coming up from the bullpen. “Glad you guys could make it.”

“What’s going on?” Ben asked, giving Richie a moment to collect his thoughts.

“We think we’ve found the girl who took Eddie,” Sgt. Grant said, leading the way through the precinct. “She has a blog, absolutely obsessed with you, Mr. Tozier. She’s posted some suspicious things lately and when someone went to talk to her, she ran. Number and email match the ones the threatening calls and emails came from.”

“Have you found him?” Richie asked, quieter than anyone had ever heard Trashmouth Tozier.

“She refuses to talk to anyone, we thought she might talk to you, if you think you’re up to it.”

Richie nodded as they reached the interrogation observation room. “I know her,” he said when he got a good look at her. “Penny W-something. She comes to just about every show I have in LA. Tried to get me to sleep with her just about every single time she got backstage.”

“You think you’ll be able to get anything out of her?”

“I can try,” Richie shrugged. “Any dos and don’ts?”

“Just don’t get yourself punched,” Sgt. Grant said. “The rest of you fine staying here?”

“If that’s alright, S-Sergeant,” Bill said with a nod.

“I’ll be right back then,” Sgt. Grant said, leading Richie from the room.

“Richie!” Penny exclaimed as he sat down across from her. “You’re here! What are you doing here?”

She was in her mid-20s, if Richie had to guess, blonde that had to come out of a bottle and blue eyes that just seemed off.

“Hey, Penny. I heard you might know something about my husband,” Richie said, pulling up the camera roll on his phone to show her a picture of Eddie. He’d taken it the morning Eddie’d gone missing. Richie’d had to get up far earlier than Eddie for some sort of soundcheck, a crime on such a lovely Saturday morning, and he couldn’t help himself.

Eddie was shirtless, comforter resting low on his back, showing off the tattoo whose partner was on Richie’s shoulder. His eyes were just barely cracked and he had a sleepy smile on his face from the good morning kiss Richie had just given him.

“He’s been missing for three weeks, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to last without him.”

Penny’s face contorted in rage before she settled again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Penny, please.” Richie thought back to the lists of hostage negotiation tactics he’d read too late at night these past weeks. “His name is Eddie Kaspbrak, he’s the world’s worst hypochondriac, I blame his mother for that, he has the worst road rage I’ve ever seen, even in the passenger’s seat. He’s been the love of my life for more than 30 years, even though we didn’t talk through most of it.

“Penny,” he looked her in the eye. “Help me find my husband, please.”

She stared at him for a moment, the excited expression she’d had on her face when he came in shifted to a closed, almost angry, expression on her face. “What do you even see in him?” she huffed. “He’s short and pissy and covered in scars.”

“He’s so much more than that,” Richie said. “He’s perfectly snuggle-sized and snarky and he’s survived so much. He’s my Eddie-Spaghetti.”

Penny stared at him for a moment. “My parents have a house outside the city,” she said eventually. “My play fort, on the very back of the property.”

Richie slumped in relief. “Thank you,” he said as Sgt. Grant opened the door for him to leave.

“You did good, Richie,” Sgt. Grant said. “Let’s go get your boy.”

* * *

The fucking SWAT team went in first, clearing the house before they let Mr. Wise, Penny’s father, lead them to the back of the property where Penny’s play fort was.

It was large, reminding Richie of the Loser’s fort if it had been above ground. Sgt. Grant went in first, followed by Richie and a couple of firefighter-paramedics.

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” Sgt. Grant called out, eyes running over the room. “Eddie!”

It was quiet, even the birds in the surrounding woods falling silent.

“Athena,” the female paramedic gestured to the back wall, where a door was hidden and blocked by a chair.

Sgt. Grant nodded, moving the chair carefully to find a door that was barely different from the walls.

When it opened, Richie was hit by a blast of sewer stench that threw himself back to the Derry sewers.

“Shit,” he hissed, pushing ahead of Sgt. Grant and running down the stairs the door had been hiding, ignoring the calls of Sgt. Grant and the paramedics. “Eddie!”

It was dark when he reached the bottom, he couldn’t see anything besides the open door at the top of the steps. “Eddie, where are you?” he called, turning on the flashlight on his phone.

“Richie?” a quiet voice called back from beyond the reach of Richie’s flashlight. “Is that really you?”

“I’m here, Spaghetti,” Richie said, moving towards Eddie’s voice. “Keep talking, baby.”

Eddie coughed. “I’m tired, Richie. I just want to go home.”

“I know baby,” Richie found Eddie in the far corner of the room, chained to the wall with what looked like an old dog tether. “Hey,” Richie knelt in front of Eddie. “Been looking for you, Spaghetti, you’re way too good at hiding.”

Eddie laughed, leaning into Richie as Sgt. Grant and the paramedics reached the floor. “How long?” he murmured as they worked on untying him from the tether.

“Three weeks.” Richie helped him stand once the tether was undone. 

“God, I bet the house is a mess,” Eddie groaned as Richie led the way up the stairs. “Slob.”

“Just because you’re a neat freak,” Richie shot back, gladly falling back into their familiar banter.

Eddie laughed, sitting on one of the chairs outside of the fort. “Where’re the others?”

“Had to leave them at the station. I think they said something about going back to the house.”

Eddie nodded, letting the paramedics look him over now that there was more light.

“You’ll live,” the female, Richie thought her name was Hen, said. “You just need a couple good meals and some sleep and you’ll be good.”

“Ben’s been stress baking,” Richie informed Eddie. “So many brownies.”

“I could go for some of Ben’s brownies,” Eddie murmured sleepily, listing into Richie. “Or Stan’s.”

Richie laughed, scooping Eddie into his arms, “I bet we could convince him to make some for you.”

“Please give him some real food before feeding him weed brownies,” the male paramedic, whose name was also Eddie, said.

“How did you…?”

“First thing I’d want after something like this is a beer. Brownies lead me to weed. His poison of choice?”

“Alcohol reacted badly with his meds when we were younger. Placebos, mostly.”

“Gazebos,” Eddie murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, baby, all those gazebos from your mom kept you from getting drunk.”

“You two really have it together, don’t you?” Firefighter Eddie asked with a fond look.

“Not at all,” Richie laughed. “I just know that everything’s better when Eddie’s around.”

Eddie the firefighter hummed when they reached the hub of activity on the street in front of the house.

“Eddie!” a firefighter broke off from the crowd. “You guys okay? Did you find him?”

“We’re fine, Buck,” Eddie said with a laugh, throwing an arm around the other firefighter.

“Looks like firefighter you has someone too,” Richie murmured into Eddie’s hair as he set him on one of the gurneys. “Good for him.”

“Now if they’d both get their heads out of their asses,” Hen, the other paramedic, said.

Richie laughed, following Eddie into the ambulance.

* * *

Eddie didn’t have to stay in the hospital long, much to the relief of all seven Losers. After a quick check-up, he went home with Richie the same day he was rescued.

“Puppy pile!” Ben exclaimed the instant Eddie and Richie got home.

“What are you Losers doing in my house?” Eddie asked with a laugh as Bill and Mike hugged him at the same time.

“Like we were gonna let you come home to an empty house,” Bev pressed a kiss to Eddie’s scarred cheek. “Mike made his four-cheese macaroni.”

“I love you.” Eddie threw himself at Mike.

“Love you too, Eddie,” Mike said with a laugh and another hug before Richie stole his husband back with a hiss. “Let’s go to the living room, Stan’s on serving duty.”

Eddie let himself be carried by Richie again, enjoying the safety of his husband’s arms and the sounds of their friends around them.

* * *

The second the last of the Losers left, Eddie jumped his husband.

“Missed you,” Eddie murmured between kisses. “Bedroom, now.”

“Yes sir,” Richie answered, carrying Eddie to their bedroom. “How do you want me?”

“I want to see you,” Eddie decided, pulling his shirt off when Richie set him on the bed, slipping off his shorts as Richie grabbed the lube from the bedside table.

“Condom?”

“No,” Eddie reached out for Richie, deciding his husband was too far away. “Want to feel you.”

“Alright, baby,” Richie stripped quickly before joining Eddie on the bed. “Ready?”

“Richie,” Eddie begged.

“I’m right here, baby,” Richie assured him, grabbing the lube and slicking his fingers. “Relax,” he murmured, starting with one finger and a kiss, slowly working his way up. Richie kept his pace slow, working Eddie through an orgasm even before he finished stretching him. “Want more?” he asked when Eddie came down.

“Please,” Eddie all but begged. “Richie, please.”

“Of course, baby,” Richie pulled his fingers out to slick his cock, swallowing the whine Eddie gave at the loss with a kiss. “Good?” he asked, only breaking the kiss when he bottomed out.

“Perfect,” Eddie sighed. “Move, please.”

Richie did, moving slowly. Neither lasted very long, even with Eddie having already come once.

“You okay?” Richie asked when they finished. “Want to shower?”

“Not yet,” Eddie said with a yawn. “‘M tired.”

Richie laughed, pulling the blankets up over them. “Alright Eds, we’ll take a nap.”

“Love you,” Eddie murmured, curling into Richie and quickly falling asleep. 

“Love you too, Spaghetti,” Richie responded, pressing a kiss to his husband’s forehead and joining Eddie in sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally wrote most of this, then realized it needed to have some kind of smut in it, so if it feels rushed at the end, that's why. Sorry


End file.
